


Pack Night Out

by jesuisgrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A little angst, Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, But just a little, Dancing, Good Alpha Derek Hale, M/M, Oblivious Derek, Pack Bonding, Possessive Derek, Scent Marking, The Jungle (Teen Wolf), in his defense he didn't spend much of his youth doing things like going dancing, so we can forgive him for not knowing the kinds of activities that happen in dark corners of clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28742991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesuisgrace/pseuds/jesuisgrace
Summary: What the fuck is my life? Derek thinks to himself. He’s standing in the corner, probably looking like a total creeper. The lights and the loud music drive his wolf crazy and he’s working hard to stay calm. But his pack is happy, and Derek loves seeing his pack happy.-Derek takes the pack to Jungle. Stiles goes missing, and everyone but Derek seems to know what he's up to.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 17
Kudos: 297





	Pack Night Out

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve wanted to write a club night with the pack since the Jackson/Erica/Isaac sandwich in Season 2, Episode 8 (Raving) because OOF. And then I barely wrote the pack dancing with each other because 1) that would be really fun to watch but not superbly fun to read and 2) I rarely write what I start out trying to write, anyway. 
> 
> As always, thank you [Poe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poe/pseuds/Poe/) for the beta! Any mistakes are my own as I kept tinkering, but trust me when I say this wouldn't have made sense without Poe's help wrangling tenses. <3

What the fuck is my life? Derek thinks to himself. He’s standing in the corner, probably looking like a total creeper. The lights and the loud music drive his wolf crazy and he’s working hard to stay calm. But his pack is happy, and Derek loves seeing his pack happy. 

Last pack night out Derek and Scott both came too close to shifting and/or mauling some dudebro assholes who couldn’t quite take no for an answer from Lydia and Allison despite them being surrounded by five intentionally intimidating werewolves. Erica hadn’t had that problem, and everyone had enjoyed watching her scare and tease and taunt stupid straight boys. Regardless, the last pack night out had nearly ended in disaster, but Erica and Stiles had begged and begged to go out dancing again, so now Derek found himself at Jungle, wishing anything they had here could get him even slightly intoxicated. Playing pack dad at a gay club wasn’t exactly high on his list of favorite activities, but he loved his pack and they were so young and didn’t get many opportunities to do normal young people things like go dancing. So Derek was here, constantly scanning the club, trying to keep an eye on everyone and to ignore the overwhelming scent of lust that permeated everything. The fifth guy of the night was slowly backing away after starting to approach him. The pack could make fun of his murder face all they wanted, but nobody could say his default expression wasn’t useful sometimes. 

Almost everyone is clustered in the middle of the dance floor, some of them dancing in little groups, some of them dancing with other people. Derek realizes he hasn’t seen Stiles in too long. Stiles doesn’t usually wander off, and he had been so excited to come tonight. He had absolutely beamed when Derek finally gave in; his excitement had lit up his whole face and he’d jumped around the loft with Erica like kids who’ve just been told they’re going to Disney World. 

Derek pushes off the wall and starts to shove his way into the middle of the crowd without making a conscious decision to start looking for him. Luckily, people tend to move out the way for the murder face. 

Stiles and Erica had been dancing together for most of the first hour or so they’d been here. The two of them love to dance and had been out in the middle of the floor immediately. Erica is easy to find; she’s barely shorter than Isaac in her scary looking heels. Derek finds her writhing in front of Isaac with another man he doesn’t recognize pressed up close behind Isaac, hands wandering all over the two of them. He winks as Derek makes his way up to them and he has to force himself not to growl. 

“Alpha!”, Erica cheers, happy to see him on the dance floor. She tries to pull him in and Isaac quickly gets in on the effort. He indulges them rarely, and he had promised her he would dance with her at least once, but he has a single minded focus right now. 

“Where’s Stiles?”, he asks in her ear, knowing Isaac will be able to hear him too. 

“I dunno. He was with us until he wandered off with tall, dark, and handsome.” Erica answers with a wink. 

“You let him wander off with a stranger?”

“We’re here to have fun, Derek. Let the boy have some fun.”

“I’ve gotta find him.”

“C’mon Derek. Stiles is fine. Leave him alone. You know he’s hung up on-”

“ISAAC!” Erica cuts him off with a strange expression. 

“I’m gonna find him. You two have fun. Keep an eye on Lydia and Allison, okay?”

“Yes, dad” they drawl at him, smirking. Derek gives them a dramatic eye roll before fading back into the crowd, searching for Stiles’ scent. 

He decides to check the bar first. Maybe Erica and Isaac were right and he was just overreacting? Maybe he just went to get a drink with someone they’d been dancing with? Derek doesn’t care if the humans drink on pack nights; he always makes sure they get home, or more accurately, to the loft, safe.

He only gets his ass grabbed twice on the way to the bar. Christ. Fucking clubs. He doesn’t see Stiles but he spots Boyd towards one end. 

“Boyd!” 

He makes his way over. 

“Have you seen Stiles?”

“No, man. Not in a bit. He was dancing with Erica but he walked off with some dude that looks a lot like you. Haven’t seen him since then.”

“You see where they went?”

“Uh… they were walking towards the back? Why, man?”

“I’m gonna go look for him”

“Derek - wait. I’m not - that guy was all over Stiles. I don’t think - He might not appreciate being interrupted.”

“Something could happen to him, Boyd. I’m gonna go look. Text me if you see him?”

“Sure, boss, but…”

Derek doesn’t hear the rest. He has this sinking feeling… he has to find Stiles. 

He checks the back wall of the club, full of couples making out and grinding against the wall. The pervasive smell of sweat and lust and sex makes it difficult to seek out Stiles’ scent, but he he thinks he catches it by the bathroom hallway. He hesitates in front of the door, but the scent seems to lead further down the hall. Derek can’t help but rush down the hallway, a thousand worst case scenarios playing in his mind. There’s a heavy metal exterior door at the end and nothing good can come of Stiles having gone out there. 

He slams the door open. He doesn’t see anyone after a brief glance around so he closes his eyes to focus on his sense of smell. He catches Stiles’ scent and starts to turn when he hears a noise to his left. 

A deep, unfamiliar voice whispers “Shhhh! Shut up, I heard the door. You’re so fucking loud.”

He rounds the stack of crates to the left of the door. A tall, muscular man with dark hair and black tattoos snaking up his arms has Stiles pinned tight against the wall of the building. 

“Get the fuck away from him,” Derek growls, low and menacing. 

The man chuckles and backs up an inch, revealing Stiles; face flushed a bright red, sweat running down his neck, hair twisted up like someone had grabbed it. The man has a leg wedged between Stiles’ thighs and Stiles looks out of breath. 

When Stiles catches his eye, he can’t quite figure out his expression. He smells fear and lust and sweat and thinks he sees anger in the boy’s face. 

“The fuck is your problem, man? There’s plenty of slutty twinks back inside. Leave us the fuck alone.”

“I said, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!” Derek roars. His eyes flash red as anger pours through him. The man has his face turned back to Stiles, but Stiles sees. He looks… confused. And… maybe… pleased? He shakes his head and puts on a blank expression before Derek can figure it out.

“Derek, what the fuck, man?”

“You know this guy?” snarls the man. 

“Yeah - he’s my… yeah”

“Your ex? Look dude I don’t want any drama I’m just trying to get off. Get him the hell out of here or I’m gone.”

“He’s not my ex… he’s not… it’s not like that.” Stiles mumbles, looking down at the floor. 

The man backs away from Stiles, who stares down at the floor before peeking up at Derek with a determined expression. 

“Stiles?” Derek asks quietly. 

“What? I can’t have a good time? I thought that’s why we were here.”

“You’re- I thought… You’re okay?”

“Fuck this. I’m not looking for complicated. You’re not the only hot piece of ass here tonight. Your loss.” The man steps completely away from Stiles, letting him slump against the wall, glaring at Derek and heading back into the club. 

Stiles doesn’t say anything. He looks towards the door briefly as the man makes his way to it and then back at Derek. He looks...debauched. Sweaty and flushed and smelling like lust and sex and alcohol, his skin tight jeans absolutely plastered to his thighs and the tightest shirt Derek had even seen him wear clinging to his shoulders. It’s a deep red with a vneck, somehow making his long, pale, delicate neck draw Derek’s eye even more than usual. His expression is defiant and his jaw is set. If he recognizes one expression in Stiles it’s this. He’s ready for a fight. 

He pushes off the wall, walking towards Derek and glaring at him. 

“What the hell, Derek?”

“You shouldn’t wander off with strangers, Stiles. I was-”

“You were what? Determined to run off the first person who’s been interested in me in six months?”

“He called you a piece of ass, Stiles. You can’t just-”

“I can’t be a piece of ass, Derek? I wasn’t exactly looking for a husband tonight.”

“You’re more than that. You should be… you’re more than that. And it’s my job to protect you, Stiles, I can’t just- I- something could have happened.”

“Jesus Christ, Derek. I was fucking hoping something would happen. Why the fuck else would I be outside in an alley grinding on a hot guy? I was hoping for something a little more exciting than making out, getting yelled at, and going back inside with blue balls. Are you my knight in shining armor here? What the fuck is this? Why did you follow me out here? I hadn’t even seen you since we got here; you weren’t even dancing. I’m not your fucking chew toy; you can’t keep me away from everyone. You don’t fucking want me, so what the fuck do you care?” 

Stiles is almost yelling now, sweating and furious. He is just inches away, all up in Derek’s face, gesturing wildly and poking at his chest. 

“I don’t… what?”

Stiles backs off a bit, deflating, his voice getting quiet. “You heard me, you asshole. As much as I appreciate your dedication to embarrassing the shit out of me tonight I’d rather not repeat myself.”

“You think I don’t want you?”

Derek has his hands on Stiles’ shoulders before he can think. 

Stiles relaxes a bit under his hands, but he isn’t calm, it’s like he’s admitting defeat. 

“Stiles, why do you think I don’t want you?”

His gaze snaps up with an incredulous expression. 

“Oh, I don’t know, Derek? Maybe because when I tried to kiss you last year you freaked the fuck out? And then never said anything about it? Are you enjoying making me relive the most embarrassing moment of my entire goddamned life?”

“Stiles I didn’t- It wasn’t like that. You almost died that night. I didn’t think you were thinking straight. I didn’t think it meant anything. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“Yeah, no you’re right. Why the fuck would it mean anything? We’ve only known each other for years and saved each others’ lives a hundred times and seen each other at our most vulnerable. I didn’t die that night because your stupid ass got between me and a murderous cult of witches. Why would it mean anything for me to finally fucking kiss you after three goddamned years of analyzing everything you say to me and every fucking time you touch me?”

Stiles is angry again, leaning into Derek, his voice rising and his hands flying everywhere. 

Derek slides his hands down his shoulders to grip his biceps, fingers wrapping around the back of his arms and holding him still. He backs him up slowly, looking into his beautiful brown eyes and wondering how the hell they’ve misunderstood each other for so long. 

“How could you think I don’t want you, Stiles? I haven’t wanted anybody else in a long time.”, he whispers quietly, mouth hovering inches from Stiles’ face. 

“Wha- what?” Stiles squeaks. 

Derek’s brain can barely keep up with what’s happening. He leans in even closer, stopping just short of touching his lips to Stiles’. 

“I’ll never touch you again if you don’t want, Stiles. You’re pack and you’re so young and I’ve thought of every possible way this could go wrong and I could hurt you. I don’t want that to happen. But I can’t let you think I don’t want you. You have no idea how much I do.”

He leans close, almost pressing his nose to the space just below Stiles’ jaw and inhaling deeply. 

“You smell like him,” he growls. 

“You want to make me smell like you, sourwolf?” Stiles whispers, running his fingers lightly up Derek’s sides. 

He pushes Stiles up against the wall quickly, crowding against him, shoving his face into his neck. 

“Yes,” he growls. 

“Do it, Der. I want you to. C’mon. I’m tired of waiting.”

Derek wraps a hand around the side of Stiles’ neck, rubbing up and down the soft, sweaty skin as he licks a stripe from his collarbone all the way up his throat and bites softly at his jaw. 

He hovers over his mouth, stopping just before he makes contact. 

“Stiles,” he pants. 

“You really want me?”

Derek nods, barely moving, eyes not leaving Stiles’.

Derek licks across Stiles’ bottom lip, watching Stiles’ eyes go wide and then flutter closed. He leans in, pressing their lips together briefly before licking into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles makes a soft noise and melts against him as Derek works a hand under his shirt to stroke up and down his side. Stiles’ hands are everywhere, like he can’t decide where he wants them; he grabs Derek’s shoulders, his arms, runs a hand down his back to grope at his ass, grabs his face and rubs his fingers against his stubble, fists a hand in his shirt to pull him in even closer. 

Derek’s not much more focused; he just wants Stiles. He kisses his mouth, his lips, licks across his jaw, sucks a mark below his ear and watches Stiles shudder. He needs to erase the smell of a fucking stranger off of his skin, make him smell like pack, make him smell like his. Fuck. 

He runs a hand down Stiles’ chest and belly underneath his shirt, skimming up his back to paw at the back of his neck and drag him in closer. He rubs his stubbled cheeks across his face and his neck, leaving his pale skin pink. He smiles into Stiles’ throat, inhaling the smell of them both before crashing back into his mouth, trying to taste Stiles behind the alcohol and the tattooed douche who doesn’t deserve him. 

Derek pulls back to look at Stiles. His pupils are blown and he’s looking up at Derek with a bewildered expression and a soft smile. Derek knows his own eyes are glowing red but he can’t seem to pull the wolf back all the way. 

“Derek,” Stiles pants. “We gotta… I can’t… take me home, Alpha. Please?”

Derek’s wolf is fucking screaming at him to take Stiles here, fuck him and claim him and show fucking everyone that he’s his, but Stiles’ “please” is more than enough to keep him under control. He noses at Stiles’ face and murmurs “Okay, let’s go, I’ll take you home” in Stiles’ ear. 

He jolts at a noise from the door and presses himself against Stiles, covering him with his body and trying not to focus on the feel of his dick pressing against him as he turns to snarl at the door, ready to throw that assclown headfirst into the dumpster. Instead he finds Erica and Isaac swatting at each other and trying not to laugh while Boyd stands behind them looking unimpressed. He considers throwing the three of them in the dumpster before taking a deep breath to ground himself. 

“I told them to stay out of it,” Boyd says, looking apologetic. “But you know how they get.”

“Looks like you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses.” 

“Erica,” Derek responds with a growl. 

Isaac winks at Stiles. “I told you he’d like that shirt.”

“Shut up, Isaac,” Stiles answers, blushing, but he can’t keep the grin off his face. 

“I do,” Derek purrs into his ear, just to embarrass them. 

“Gross, man. We don’t need to hear that shit.” 

“Speak for yourself, Boyd. I’d looooove to hear that shit,” Erica answers with a leer. 

“You guys make sure everyone stays safe and gets home. Nobody’s sleeping at the loft tonight. If you go somewhere besides Scott’s or Allison’s let me know.”

“YES, DAD!” they chorus back at him, and Stiles laughs, knocking his face into Derek’s chest. 

The betas pile back into the club and Derek can’t stop himself from running his hands over Stiles again now that they’re alone. 

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Derek- Are we… is this happening? I can’t… I can’t just hook up with you…” Stiles trails off looking embarrassed but determined.

“I told you, Stiles. You’re so much more than a piece of ass.”

Stiles smiles, slow and happy, and nips at his lower lip. “Yeah, but you want a piece of this ass, don’t you, sourwolf?”

Derek kisses him again, fast and sloppy, like he can’t help it, can’t stop himself. “I want everything, Stiles.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I’m toying with the idea of adding a second chapter of our boys back at the loft. No promises as it’s not written (well I’ve got a few lines but that’s it). It would take the rating from M to E. What do y’all think? I know some folks will be frustrated by the fade to black and other folks prefer to avoid explicit smut, so I’m curious to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr at @eusuntgratie about Sterek and Stucky! <3


End file.
